


Of Traditions and Lies

by backontheground



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Birthday Party, Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backontheground/pseuds/backontheground
Summary: "Roy Mustang has a tradition, forged in his childhood and consolidated by years of brazen lying."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Equivalent Exchange 2020





	Of Traditions and Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runeofluna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runeofluna/gifts).



> Hi!  
> Sooo... I kind of overstretched myself with this one, trying to fit in too much, and it became messy. I hope that you find it still enjoyable though!

Roy Mustang has a tradition, forged in his childhood and consolidated by years of brazen lying. If ever asked about it he will say that it started in good, if somewhat naïve, faith. And it really did start like that, but then, like all his charades, it grew and it morphed and suddenly he didn’t know what to do with it anymore.

* * *

Roy is just a child when he ends up living with his aunt Chris, tall enough to barely reach tables and small enough to hide in corners. He is already a troublemaker , a bit too bright and a tad too charming for his own sake. Soon enough all of the girls at the bar are taken in, flattered by his attention and entertained by his wits. Before long they start to love him and he loves them back. He basks in their love and their comfort and he accepts gladly a sweet, reaches for a hug. All under the amused gaze of his aunt, who is ready to rein him in when she establishes that things have gone too far, and “the girls are working, Roy”, and “don’t spoil him too much, girls”.

Roy has already been through a bit and, to be frank, he is perfectly content with being spoiled. Or he is, until something happens. It is going to be Roy’s birthday tomorrow and he is in a great mood. He has made sure to mention the fact to everybody he knows, and he can’t wait to see what they are going to do to surprise him. He has great ambitions and even greater expectations. It is in this bubble of joy that he walks in the backroom of the bar to hear his aunt speaking to the girls.

“I can’t let you spend your wage on this, girls,” she’s saying, her tone warm, but determined, “you don’t let those men paw at you all week just to get toys for my nephew.”

They protest, of course. He hears Gina, a red-haired young woman with three younger siblings, exclaim, “It’s only a few decorations, some balloons-!” Sarah, who Roy knows used to work at the bakery before the owner accused her of being too stupid and kicked her out, insists, “I’ll make just one small cake!”

Roy slowly backs out of the room, glad for his small stature for once and for the shadows that cover his escape. Roy can be self-centred at times, maybe even more than other children, but he is also aware of other people’s needs. He is not heartless and knows that he has to fix this.

-

The plan is for the girls to come in earlier than usual to clean and organise the bar and then to secretly pop out again to buy gifts and decorations for Roy. Madame Christmas has vehemently opposed that they spend their own money on her nephew. She will get him a present, she said, and he will have to be happy with it. They mind though, so they are planning to disobey a bit. The money they earn is their own, after all, isn’t it?

Sarah is among the first to arrive, a cake in her hands and a bright smile on her lips, and she holds the door open for a couple of the other girls. She’s just closing the door behind her when she hears the others gasp. The room is already clean and sparkling, confetti and balloons of every colour making the place completely unrecognizable. A huge banner hangs over the counter, a white sheet with childish letters and scribbles inked in what she is reasonably sure is not ink. It looks like… jam? Sarah has to focus for a moment to read the wobbly letter, but then, when she does, she is just as surprised as her colleagues. HAPPY FRIENDS DAY, she reads. Someone is laughing on the side, Madame Christmas guffawing at their astonishment, a cigarette in her hand and a proud glint in her eyes. And then, underneath the banner Roy sits, his small legs kicking the front of the counter on which he is lounging, a smug smirk on his lips.

* * *

When Riza gets to headquarter, she is suddenly assaulted by a terrified Breda.

“I’m sorry to bother you immediately , Lieutenant Hawkeye, but we are slightly concerned about Colonel Mustang,” he mutters, walking alongside her across the long corridors, “We think there is something you should see.”

Riza sighs. The universe has a definitely perverse way of ruining her best mornings, and she should probably not be surprised anymore, but, alas, she is human, and that trouble-maker of her superior still manages to catch her off guard at times. Like right now, for example, when she turns the corner to see him presenting small flower bouquets to the astounded military personnel, male and female alike.

She stops and stares for a moment, her usually sharp brain taking much longer than usual to process the scene. That moment is enough for the colonel to notice her and, if possible, his smile becomes even wider.

“Lieutenant! How lovely to see you on such a nice day!” He exclaims, with a manic twinkle in his eyes, and he hands her one of his bouquets and begins to take off again, “I wish you a peaceful Colleagues Day!”

Lost in a sea of objections to such a short interaction, Riza can already feel a headache mounting on. How to tell him it is no accident that they are meeting since it is a work day and that they do work together indeed? Or that there is no such a thing as a Colleague’s Day?

“Colonel-” she makes to answer, an exasperated tone already at the ready, when she is stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Lieutenant Colonel Hughes , who came down from Central City the previous day for reasons that she has not been informed of.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, good morning,” he is shaking his head, but his voice sounds amused as he glances at the slowly retreating back of his best friend, “let him have this one, won’t you?”

She looks at them both and then she sighs, slowly and deeply. Then she calls back at Colonel Mustang, “You only have until eleven to play, Colonel.”

She takes in Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’s appreciative smile and the enthusiastic two fingered salute from the retreating colonel and then she makes briskly for her office, bouquet still in her hand. She has to find a vase for these pretty flowers after all.

* * *

It is 1916 and, when Ed wakes up in the morning, he can relish the fact that not only is no part of him made of metal anymore, but that Amestris is finally a better place. And he does, relish that. There is no day in which he does not think of himself as incredibly lucky to be alive and well, when so much could have gone wrong.

He lounges in bed nowadays, taking advantage of the fact that he and Al are no longer risking their lives, that there is no world to save anymore. He looks outside his window and stretches while he listens at the cheerful chirping of birds. The banging and clanging of Winry’s automail workshop interrupt the peaceful sounds of nature and he is only reassured by them, by the fact that she is doing so well and regarded so highly by the automail engineering community that clients come for her from all over the country.

He hears the kettle whistling in the kitchen and he imagines Aunt Pinako there cup of tea on one side and pipe on the other, struggling to keep up with the account books now that Rockbell Automail is so well known. That makes him think of Al, busy studying in Xing, and he is so thankful, but also, the mouth of his stomach burns a bit at the thought. It is nice to finally be able to get some rest, he will never say it is not, but he has to admit to being slightly envious of Winry and Al for having something _to do_ . Resembool will always be his home, but it is tiny.

He wonders about Central City then, about his friends and acquaintances from the military. He hopes the Armstrong siblings are doing fine, he hasn’t had news for a while. And small Elicia is starting school soon, isn’t she? Last time she saw her she was obsessed with Black Hayate, following him around, eyes wide when he would obey the Lieutenant’s orders. He’s pretty sure that Lieutenant Hawkeye is still being her usual impeccable self and Mustang- Mustang-

“ED! EEEED!” His daydreaming is broken by Winry’s high pitched voice, “Phone call for you!”

Ugh, he must really be out of it if he didn’t even hear the phone ring. “Coming!” He throws back at her, finally making the effort to get out of bed. He slowly drags himself down the stairs, barely supressing a yawn. When he gets to the hall, Winry gesticulates towards the phone and she mouths something indistinct at him. He shrugs and grabs the phone, shooing her away. She gives him a glare and a huff in return, but goes willingly.

“Edward Elric speaking,” he mutters, wondering who has Winry in such a state.

“Hey, Fullmetal, how is the countryside treating you?” Comes a loud, self-assured voice, one that he has not heard in a while. Ed feels a weird ache in his chest, he may gasp a little.

“Hey, bastard,” he says, trying not to choke on the word, “hey, what’s up?” He hasn’t seen nor heard from Mustang in a while, Ed too busy building back his life, Mustang too busy building back the nation. Ed doesn’t really know where he stands with him after leaving the military and he is possibly a bit nervous at the thought of finding out.

“I hope I’m not keeping you from something very important, like herding sheep or milking cows,” the jerk teases. Ed should be angry, but he may have missed the bastard, judging from the relief he feels at being treated as usual . “I was actually wondering if you would be free to come up to Central in a couple weeks’ time.”

He loves Winry and Aunt Pinako, he really does, but just the thought of being back in Central City, among his friends and all the adrenaline and the excitement makes his heart start beating faster. “What? What for?”

“Well, for a party. It’s going to be Military Family Day and we were planning to celebrate it here at the Headquarters- Actually, you know what?” And then he hears a laugh coming from Mustang, a bright, relaxed, honest thing that he hasn’t heard before, and if that is not a sign of the fact that they are finally in a new era what is? “It’s my birthday, Fullmetal. Bring up the Rockbells too, and your brother. It’s high time we had a real party.” 

* * *

Roy Mustang has a tradition and he likes it. It is like a blanket, warm and safe and somewhat constricting. He is used to it and it has always brought him more benefits than disadvantages. He likes his tradition, but he knows that in the end he is going to be so much better off without.


End file.
